


could get bolder

by lotts (LottieAnna)



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Getting Together, M/M, they don't talk about their feelings but they don't /not/ talk about their feelings, they for sure brush their teeth tho, they're fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-04-06 11:35:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19061839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LottieAnna/pseuds/lotts
Summary: It’s a good plan, carefully crafted, and by Kerfy’s estimates, it’s got about a 65% chance of successfully phasing the ‘b’ out of their bromance over time. It’s the smart thing to do, because having feelings for your roommate and teammate and best friend is tricky business, and Tyson should handle it delicately, right?But here’s the thing: plans are hard.





	could get bolder

**Author's Note:**

> IF YOU FOUND THIS THROUGH GOOGLING, KNOW ANYONE MENTIONED IN THIS STORY PERSONALLY, OR ARE MENTIONED YOURSELF: please, please click away. This is a work of fiction and nothing written in this story is true. Any accurate information used in this story is publicly available information about public figures, the rest is made up, 100%.
> 
> takes place after game 6 of the avs/sharks series. pure nonsense. i love tyson very dearly. thanks to crj for writing "i want you in my room," which is very much a josty song and where the title comes from. 
> 
> lightly edited by me, all mistakes are my own!

Tyson has been thinking about this for a while, and he has a plan, right: talk to JT about his feelings, have a mature, honest conversation about expectations, explain that he’s put a lot of thought into this and is sure that it’s something he wants, and that even though he’s never really done stuff with another guy before, he really wants to give things between them an honest shot. It’s a good plan, carefully crafted, and by Kerfy’s estimates, it’s got about a 65% chance of successfully phasing the ‘b’ out of their bromance over time. It’s the smart thing to do, because having feelings for your roommate and teammate and best friend is tricky business, and Tyson should handle it delicately, right? 

But here’s the thing: plans are hard, hockey is harder, Tyson got a goal tonight, and JT got two, so— well.

The short of it is that Tyson doesn’t do the thing he was gonna do, and instead, blows JT in the bathroom while they’re packing their bags for San Jose. 

They’ve gotta be quick about it; none of them had packed before, because they didn’t wanna jinx anything, but Kerfy had insisted on doing laundry anyway, so they couldn’t just leave the old ones packed. And they have to be quiet, too, because there’s a third person in this house, and even though Tyson had the good sense to turn the water on to drown out the noise, they still can’t be as loud as Tyson wants. 

It’s the first time Tyson’s ever sucked a dick, and he’s honestly expecting it to be a lot harder. Or— more difficult, because the dick in question is plenty hard. It’s  _ really  _ hard. Which is, like… super cool. 

Really, it’s more or less what he’s expecting: there’s a dick-shaped thing in his mouth, and he does things that he thinks would feel good if they were happening to him, then tries to pay attention to whether JT likes them or not. JT occasionally pulls his hair, then jerks his hand away fast, like he hadn’t meant to. Tyson appreciates the gesture, but he also appreciates the guidance— if JT is tugging at his hair a bit, or squeezing his fists into balls to stop himself from tugging, then Tyson’s doing something that’s making him lose control, which is exactly what he wants. 

JT’s pants are around his ankles, and Tyson’s still fully clothed. Whenever Tyson looks up, JT’s looking back down, and then he does this fluttery eyelash thing that looks way too gentle for someone with a beard that thick. But JT’s got these really big, soft eyes that Tyson wants to get lost in all the time, so he figures he should’ve expected that. 

Eventually, JT wraps his hand around his dick and nudges Tyson off, probably because he’s close, and, sure enough, it’s only a few seconds before he’s choking out, “I’m gonna—” and Tyson’s putting his mouth back on JT’s dick. For convenience, or whatever. 

It would’ve been cool if JT had come on Tyson’s face, but Tyson figures that might’ve gotten awkward. He would’ve had to steal JT’s face wash right in front of his face, immediately after sucking his dick. He doesn’t want to put him in that position. 

“Um,” JT says afterwards, as Tyson’s still processing the taste of his jizz. He can’t tell if it tastes more like salt or vinegar, and that thought is making him want salt and vinegar chips. Now that he thinks about it, he’s pretty fucking hungry. “What was that about?” 

“The game,” Tyson says easily, even though it’s only half of the truth. The real list of reasons he wants to touch JT is probably too long, though, so he figures he’ll spare his ears the details. “That one-t especially.” 

“Oh, uh— thanks,” JT says, looking a bit dazed. Man, Tyson must’ve totally rocked his world. “It’s just that we’ve never done that before?” He sounds unsure, which is sort of hilarious. 

“Yeah, well, there’s a first time for everything, right?” Tyson says cheerfully. “Anyway, how was the blowjob?” 

“Well, I mean. I finished,” JT says. 

Tyson makes a face. “That’s it?” 

“No, like— it was— you were fine,” JT says, and when he sees that that’s not helping, he amends, “You were good, I mean.” He swallows. “It’s just— you gave me a blowjob.” 

“Yep.” 

“Since when do you give blowjobs?” 

Tyson shrugs. “Since now, I guess.” 

JT just stares down at him. 

“What’s a blowjob between friends, right?” Tyson tries, giving JT a smile that feels thin, and JT just looks even more baffled at that. He bends forward to pull up his pants, and as Tyson is awkwardly scooting out of the way and trying to not let their bath mat scrunch up beneath his knees, he realizes he could probably be handling this better. “That was a joke.” 

JT freezes in the middle of buttoning his pants; the button is half out of the buttonhole, and it’s probably gonna bother Tyson for the rest of eternity. “What?” 

“The thing about a blowjob between friends,” Tyson says, vaguely aware of the mist from the shower hitting the side of his face. “That was a joke.” 

“Oh, alright,” JT says, and then, after a second, “Then, uh— what was it?” 

“Just a normal blowjob,” Tyson says, his cheeks heating up. He’s not sure what they’re going to do about the fact that the shower is on, even though they both showered at the rink, and clearly didn’t shower just now, and are both in here together. 

He probably hasn’t thought this through enough. 

“Okay, so—” 

“Can we make out?” Tyson says, cutting JT off, because it sounds like he’s about to ask a question that Tyson’s not really ready to answer. 

JT blinks. “You just had my dick in your mouth.” 

“I can brush my teeth,” Tyson says, standing up. “I haven’t packed my toothbrush yet.” 

“I— we don’t have time for you to brush your teeth,” JT says. “We’ve gotta—” 

“Please kiss me,” Tyson says, maybe a little desperate, and JT just goes from one shade of shocked to another, his eyes flickering down to Tyson’s lips for a second. 

“Uh, I… fine,” JT says. “Brush your teeth, then.”

So, Tyson brushes his teeth. 

It’s awkward as hell, because JT is standing right there, staring at his feet and pretending to not watch Tyson, and Tyson is suddenly very self-conscious about his dental hygiene habits. Which— JT’s a hockey player, not a dentist, he doesn’t give a shit about Tyson’s teeth as long as his mouth doesn’t taste like jizz, but Tyson wants to have clean teeth anyway. 

It’s probably the most thorough toothbrushing Tyson’s ever done in his life. His dentist would be proud.

It goes on so long that Tyson’s still got a toothbrush in his mouth when Kerfy knocks on the door and starts yelling at them to hurry the fuck up, and JT awkwardly turns off the shower, gets his sleeve wet, and shuffles past Tyson and out into the hallway. 

Kerf stands in the door, giving Tyson an expectant look. 

“What the fuck,” he says. 

Tyson spits out his toothpaste. “I’m working on it, okay?” 

“So you corralled him into the bathroom to have a conversation, or—” 

“I said I was working on it,” Tyson says, frowning at the toothbrush as he rinses it off. The bristles look all worn out, and also, the back of his throat still tastes like jizz. “We were gonna make out before you interrupted, you know.” 

“And before that, you two were talking?” 

“Did I not say I was working on it?” Tyson says, and he grabs a cup, rinses out his mouth. 

Kerf just keeps standing there with his arms crossed. 

“What?” Tyson demands. 

“You really should talk to him.”

Which. Tyson is aware, thanks. 

…… 

The next thing that happens is JT jerking off Tyson on the plane. 

They sit next to each other and pointedly don’t talk about anything, and then, everyone else is asleep, and Tyson’s exhausted, but nowhere near being able to actually sleep. JT is apparently the same. 

It’s, like— this wordless conversation kind of thing, where JT has his pinky resting against the side of Tyson’s leg, and then a whole hand resting on his thigh, and then it’s getting closer and closer to his dick, and his dick is getting harder and harder. It’s just, like, anticipation and heat, or whatever, but it’s still a little fucking embarrassing to be super hard before the guy you’re maybe-hooking up with even gets a hand on you. 

Unlike the whole blowjob thing, Tyson’s done this before. He’s been on the receiving end of many a handjob, often in uncomfortably public places, because he was a cliche of a teenager who got jerked off in movie theaters sometimes. Whatever. These things happen, and it’s all well and good, because Tyson’s got a blanket and JT’s hand is now under that blanket, and the whole setup is very promising. 

JT’s hand brushes the tent in Tyson’s sweatpants, and Tyson is momentarily humiliated, until JT starts to hesitantly run his hand over it. Tyson inhales, sharp, and glances over at JT, who’s staring pretty intently at his face. 

Without thinking about it, Tyson nods, probably a little frantic, and it has the intended effect, because soon, JT is reaching under the waistband of his sweats and running his thumb over the precome gathered at the head. 

So. Tyson lets his head fall back against the airplane seat and gets jerked off by JT, right there, surrounded by teammates. 

Look, Tyson’s not an exhibitionist or anything, but there’s something super hot about the fact that this feels all illicit and hidden. He’s not embarrassed about what they’re doing here, and the worst thing that can happen if they get caught is some mild awkwardness with their teammates, so the stakes are pretty low, but still— it’s all warm and dark and quiet, and Tyson likes that. There’s a romance to it, he thinks.

And then, there’s the fact that JT is doing a good job jerking him off, in the sense that he’s going slow and tight, which is perfect for this moment. Like, Tyson wants to tell him to speed up, maybe buck his hips up, but he can’t do either of those things, which, like,  _ works  _ for Tyson. The thrill of having to stay still probably turns him on as much as being touched, and there’s a lot to be said for a handjob that’s a solid mix of teasing and pleasure. 

It takes a while for Tyson to come, but he does, shuddering out a small moan, because he can’t help it. He’s been on the edge for what feels like forever, and it’s been JT’s hand on his dick the whole time— the whole thing is really intense, so Tyson’s dick follows suit. It’s one of those overwhelming orgasms, the kind where the relief pulses throughout your entire body and goes on for a few minutes. 

When all’s said and done, JT pulls his hand out of Tyson’s pants, which are, thankfully, old and kinda ratty and not ones he cares about. He’ll gladly sacrifice them for the very noble cause of getting a handjob from JT. He’s rich. He can afford new pants. 

Then, JT just sort of… stares at his hand—the one currently covered in Tyson’s come—like he’s not sure what to do. 

“Dare you to lick it,” Tyson whispers, because he’s feeling giggly and a little dumb. 

JT looks disgusted. Tyson, refusing to be shut down, does a weird licking gesture with his tongue, accompanies it with his best eyebrow waggling. 

“You’re gross,” JT says, but then he looks down at his hand again, and, after a second of hesitation, begins to actually lick at Tyson’s come, which— 

Y’know. Pretty nasty, but in a very sexy kind of way. And he’s making eye contact with Tyson as he does it, too, so he totally knows that Tyson’s super affected by this, and he continues to do it on purpose, which is sort of awesome, and also entirely horrible. 

Tyson’s starting to understand why people consider the potential consequences of their actions before doing things, sometimes. 

But that’s for later. Right now, Tyson’s just gonna curl up against JT’s side, because he wants to, and JT just made him come, so he figures he can get some plane cuddles in. Without really thinking about it, he presses a kiss to the skin of JT’s neck—Tyson doesn’t know much about necks, but he’s decided JT has the best one, because his beard tickles Tyson’s face when he tries to kiss it—and JT lets out a small, quiet laugh.  

“I still wanna kiss you,” Tyson murmurs, feeling a little sleepy, all of a sudden. “Can’t jerk your way out of that one.” 

“That’s not why I did that,” JT says. 

“Mmm,” Tyson hums. “Trying to thank me for earlier?” 

JT doesn’t say anything to that, but Tyson’s eyelids are so heavy that he barely notices. 

“You can kiss me now, if you want,” Tyson says, because he’s half-asleep and his walls are down. “I want you to.” 

“My mouth tastes gross, remember?” 

JT sounds more amused than anything else, and Tyson does have a moment of,  _ oh yeah, jizz,  _ but he doesn’t think he’d mind. 

He drifts off to sleep on JT’s shoulder before he gets a chance to push the issue, though. 

……

Tyson is. So fucking tired. 

He’s barely awake as he’s herded off the plane and onto the bus, and falls asleep in the lobby as they check into that same fucking San Jose hotel. And then Kerf is talking with Sammy and JT about something, and Tyson truly does not understand how any of them are awake enough to be arranging shit, but keys get switched around and Tyson ends up heading to a room with JT, not Kerf. 

Huh. 

“If I promise to blow you again, will you carry my bag?” Tyson says, and they’re not fully out of earshot of teammates, but again: Tyson does not care. 

JT looks around, a little embarrassed. “Uh, I can just… carry your bag for you.”

“Sweet,” Tyson says, hauling it off his shoulder and handing it to JT. “I'm too tired to suck another dick tonight, anyway.” 

JT presses the button to call the elevator. “Technically it would be the same dick.”

“You’re a dick,” Tyson says, because anyone who uses the word ‘technically’ in a conversation about blowjobs deserves to hear that. “Why did Kerfy and G wanna switch, anyway?”

The elevator doors open, and Tyson slumps against the wall, waits for JT to lug their bags in.

“Dunno,” JT says, the elevator doors closing behind them. “They just said it would be for the best.”

Tyson snorts. “They’re so nosy,” he says, and then, before JT can ask him to explain what he means by that, “Hey, can we make out now?”

“What?”

“In this elevator,” Tyson says. “No one’s here.”

“I mean, I guess, but—“

JT is cut off when the elevator doors slide open.

“Oh,” Tyson says. “Low floor.”

“Yeah.”

Tyson is just— so, so tired.

……

Tyson cleans up, changes out of his sweats into a clean pair of pajama pants and brushes his teeth for the fourth time that day. 

“Bathroom’s yours if you want it,” Tyson says.

JT answers by kissing him on the mouth. 

It’s very sudden and tastes like too much peppermint, and Tyson’s half asleep, so he’s not exactly prepared for the way JT’s all energetic and insistent. At the same time, though, JT is kissing him, so it’s not like Tyson’s not gonna kiss back. It’s just sort of sloppy and mismatched for a second, is all. 

“Okay,” Tyson says, when JT pulls away, and obviously he touches his mouth. JT’s beard had felt fuzzy against his face, and Tyson’s never kissed anyone with any beard before, let alone a really great beard. Tyson’s pretty sure JT’s beard is softer than his, actually. He’s gonna have to double check on that. 

JT’s face is unreadable, for once. “Sorry,” he says. “Just— you asked me to.” 

“No, yeah, I know, but—” Tyson runs a hand over his face. “I feel like this is all happening in the wrong order.” 

“What’s the right order, then?” JT looks angry, which means he’s probably embarrassed, and Tyson is very tired and probably fucking this up. They had good games. This shouldn’t be so hard. 

“I forgot,” Tyson says. “I dunno, you should brush your teeth, and then we should, like, cuddle, or something?”

“Was my breath bad, or something?”

“No, like— brush your teeth so we can get into bed,” Tyson says. “And maybe kiss more, I dunno.”

“Oh,” JT says. “Alright, then.”

Then, he disappears into the bathroom, and Tyson falls asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow. 

…… 

JT isn’t in the bed when Tyson wakes up, which, rude.

“You were supposed to cuddle me,” Tyson says in the direction of the other bed. “Why are you so far away?”

From the other bed, the mass of sheets and comforter that is JT Compher grumbles. “You were asleep.” 

“I’m awake now,” Tyson says.

“Good for you. I’m not.”

“I wanna cuddle,” Tyson says.

“Then come here and do it yourself, I’m not getting up.”

It’s like JT isn’t aware that Tyson’s already doing the hard part of this by initiating.

“Fine,” he says, because cuddling trumps pride, and Tyson’s not a quitter when it comes to getting what he wants. It takes every ounce of stubborn energy he has to roll out of bed and flop onto JT’s, but he gets it done.

Even big beds feel small when occupied by two hockey player-sized people, and it doesn’t help that JT is right in the middle, so Tyson’s only real options are pressing right up against him or faceplanting right on the floor. 

“Can I be the big spoon?” Tyson asks.

JT makes a noise. Tyson’s pretty sure it's a laugh that’s not awake yet. 

“Yes, Tys, you can be the big spoon.”

He means it, apparently, if the way he slots against Tyson’s chest is any indication. He even lifts his head so Tyson can slide his arm underneath. What a gentleman.

Tyson presses a kiss to JT’s shoulder. It’s a nice shoulder. JT’s skin is very soft right now. It ought to be kissed. 

JT sort of shivers at it, which makes the moment feel a helluva lot more intimate.

“You’re really confusing, you know that?” JT says, but he grinds back against Tyson in a really awesome way. 

“I thought you were trying to sleep,” Tyson says, hoping the fact that his dick is hard isn’t weird for JT. It probably isn’t. JT seems to be enjoying himself.  

“I am,” JT says. “Just trying to get comfortable, is all.” 

“Liar.” 

“You have no proof.” 

Tyson doesn’t have proof, but he does have a boner, and JT makes a contented sound the next time he rubs against it that feels very targeted. “If you wanna bang, you could just ask.” 

“I don’t wanna bang, I wanna sleep.” 

“You’re sending us really mixed messages here.” 

“Us?” JT sounds like he’s smiling. 

“Me and Tyson Junior,” Tyson says. 

JT snorts. “You call your dick Tyson Junior?”

“What, you don’t?”

“Half the team calls  _ you  _ Tyson Junior,” JT says. “I feel like that would get confusing.” 

“I mean, Barrie also calls his Tyson Junior, so.” 

“Oh my god, why do you  _ know _ that?” 

“I don’t know, it came up,” Tyson says, defensive. “Anyway, you wanna bang, or what?” 

“Jeez,” JT says. “What’s gotten into you lately?”

“You,” Tyson says, not missing a beat, and that earns him a proper laugh from JT.

“Good night, Tyson,” JT says, still chuckling a little bit. 

“It’s 7AM.”

“You know what I mean,” JT says. “I’m going back to sleep.” 

“What am I supposed to do?” Tyson says, pushing his hips against JT to clarify that he’s talking about his hard-on. 

“Not my problem,” JT says, which is mildly irritating, but probably, like, his right, or whatever. “Take care of it yourself, or wait it out.” 

Tyson briefly considers disentangling himself from JT so he can hop in the shower and jerk off, but honestly— boner aside, he’s pretty comfortable right now. 

Actually, even taking the boner into consideration, this feels pretty nice.

…… 

“If you don’t tell him you like him, I’m going to do it for you,” Kerfy informs Tyson during morning skate the next day. They’d switched back to their normal roommate arrangements last night because playoffs, so Tyson’s not sure why Kerf is bringing this up now when he had many opportunities to do it in private, but whatever.

“Wait, can you actually?” Tyson says. “That’d make this whole thing so much easier.” 

EJ, who is having some kind of staring contest with Sam behind Kerf, barks out a laugh, and Sam says something that makes EJ put him in a headlock—which really just means that Sam says something—and Kerfy just looks deeply concerned about all of it. 

“No, that wasn’t— I wasn’t being serious, just—” 

“Talking is hard,” Tyson whines, dragging out the word. “Please? Pretty please? Pretty please with cherries on top?” 

Kerfy doesn’t have a chance to answer, because Tyson Barrie shoots a puck at his feet, and everyone kinda starts shouting at everyone else. 

…… 

Getting knocked out of the playoffs is… fine. 

Actually— what? No. It fucking sucks, obviously, and Josty almost forgets about the whole JT thing because of it, first because he’s nervous, and then because they actually fucking lose. It’s not a blowout, or anything, but honestly— that feels worse. It’s a fight to the fucking finish, but they still don’t manage it. 

Of course JT doesn’t bring it up. If it wasn’t so weird, Tyson’s not even sure JT would remember that it happened in the first place. The part where they hooked up, not the losing part— Tyson’s pretty sure they’re not forgetting the losing part any time soon. 

“This fucking sucks,” JT says, then sits next to Tyson, putting his hood up. Tyson’s usually okay with other people’s bad moods, but right now, he’s not gonna try and cheer JT up. He doubts it will work, and anyway, he doesn’t have the energy. 

“Yep,” Tyson says. “It’ll probably be less shitty in the morning.” He starts to put in his headphones, but then he sees JT staring at him. “What?”

“I dunno,” JT says, looking kinda flustered. “Are you just gonna, like, go to sleep?”

“Maybe,” Tyson says. “I have these, like, meditation track things that I listen to?” 

JT rolls his eyes. “I know about your meditation tracks, dude.” 

“Right,” Tyson says, and he tries to put his headphones in again, but JT stops him. 

“Do they help?” 

“Uh,” Tyson says, blinking. “I guess?” 

“What’s it called?” JT asks, pulling out his phone. 

After a second, Tyson realizes that JT’s probably acting weird because he’s just too angry to sit quietly on a plane for a few hours. 

“Here, let’s share,” Tyson says, offering JT an earbud. 

Once it’s in, he uses his right hand to browse his Spotify, and grabs JT’s hand with his left. He runs a thumb over JT’s knuckles—kinda bruised, which is kinda sexy, but that’s not really the point right now—and hopes it feels soothing. 

“Thanks,” JT says, sounding a little breathless and a lot calmer. 

Tyson shrugs, easy. “No problem.”

“And also— thanks,” JT says. “I mean, for, like— the last few days.”

Tyson actually manages to muster up a smile at that— a genuine one, too. JT looks vaguely embarrassed, and Tyson thinks it’s sort of sweet.

“I’ve got you, dude,” Tyson says.

Maybe he won’t need Kerf to talk to JT for him. If they weren’t on a plane surrounded by teammates, it might be nice to have this conversation when he’s this type of tired. It might feel like a late summer night. Y’know. Slumber party vibes. 

……

The next morning, Tyson and JT are in the kitchen in their pajamas, drinking coffee and scrolling on their phones. Tyson has very purposely thrown his feet over JT’s lap, and is waiting to see how JT responds. 

“You wanna go out, or something?” JT says, his thumb brushing against the bone of Tyson’s ankle.

Tyson probably looks like a meerkat, his head shoots up so fast. “What?”

“Like… for brunch?” JT says, giving Tyson a weird look.

Tyson sort of deflates, even though— it’s not  _ not  _ a thing, necessarily. It’s just that JT’s acting too normal for Tyson to be able to figure out if it’s for sure a thing. 

“I dunno,” Tyson says. “Not really I’m a brunch mood.”

“No shit, but we still gotta eat.”

Tyson gestures to the room around them. “Are we not already in a kitchen?”

“I don’t want cereal.”

“But I don’t wanna, like, shower and put on pants,” Tyson says. “Can’t you get Kerf to go to brunch with you?”

“He won’t.”

“How do you know that?”

JT rolls his eyes, but he does that thing somewhere between puckering and pursing his lips— the thing that means he’s burying whatever he says under layers of pretending to be casual. “He thinks you and I should hang out today. S’why he’s not here.”

On second thought, maybe the brunch idea hadn’t been a normal invitation. Tyson should’ve really been looking out for the mouth thing earlier in this conversation. 

“Well, like— we can do that here,” Tyson says. “We have, like, eggs, and stuff.”

“I don’t wanna cook,” JT says.

“No shit,” Tyson says, rolling his eyes. He takes his feet off of JT’s lap, and then he stands up, because he’s got a plan now, he’s pretty sure. “I’ll cook for you.”

JT blinks at him. “That sounds like a lot more work than going out.”

“Okay, yeah, but— romance, dude,” Tyson says. 

“Romance?”

“Romance.”

Tyson’s, like, almost 70% sure this is the right move. A solid 69%, for sure. 

Then, JT smiles, and it goes from nice to  _ nice,  _ because it’s a dorky, big grin, full of relief and fondness, and Tyson can see that JT is trying and failing to downplay all of it. 

“Alright, then,” JT says. “Romance me up.”

He looks so happy—and Tyson  _ feels  _ so happy—that it takes a considerable amount of willpower to not immediately get on his knees and suck JT’s dick again. 

Thankfully, Tyson’s got a considerable amount of willpower. 

Apparently.

“That’s the plan,” Tyson says cheerfully, and they’re probably gonna have to talk more about this later, but now that the hard part’s out of the way, Tyson might actually manage to be patient for once in his fucking life. They're on the right track, at least. 

**Author's Note:**

> jt, this entire fic: "does he have feelings for me, or is he just constructing intricate rituals?"
> 
> things tyson jost did prior to the start of this story (pls picture this as a rocky-esque training montage):  
> -took a lot of personality quizzes  
> -bought bananas to practice giving head with   
> -did not practice on said bananas  
> -made (well... tried to make) (burnt) some banana bread   
> -felt weird when jt ate said banana bread   
> -confessed to kerfy why he had bananas with which to make banana bread   
> \--"so it's like," tyson says, "i looked at jt one day and thought, 'i wanna bite his neck,' and then i was worried i was a vampire for a hot sec, but then i realized i was just probably gay. or, like, gay for him, at least."   
> -looked at sex toys on amazon  
> -remembered that he actually already had a dildo because of some weird bet he made with mat barzal at dante's cabin   
> -wondered if that had also been a gay thing  
> -actually practiced giving head on the dildo   
> -watched a lot of ted talks on how to improve his life   
> -watched ted talks on how to improve his life while practicing his blowjob skills on the dildo  
> -got caught by kerfy watching ted talks on how to improve his life while practicing his blowjob skills on the dildo   
> -realized that he should probably do something besides watch ted talks on how to improve his life while practicing his blowjob skills on the dildo   
> -looked at himself in the mirror and said "my boyfriend" to get used to the way it sounded  
> -had one (1) frank conversation with alexander kerfoot about his feelings 
> 
> also, jt and tyson totally do it in the kitchen because jt is very overwhelmed by the fact that tyson made him eggs. kerfy is so excited about not having to hear jt grumble-pine anymore (and also excited that his friends are. happy.) that he doesn't even complain about it. like, they sanitized. it's whatever. 
> 
> oh also ALSO, there's background sam/ej/kerf happening here, because i said so.


End file.
